


Over The Sea

by redundant_angel, SkreeBat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Communicating (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang, Established Relationship, Illustrated, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redundant_angel/pseuds/redundant_angel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkreeBat/pseuds/SkreeBat
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have moved to the beautiful rolling chalk hills of the South Downs to start their new life together. While they have settled into an ineffable rhythm of their own, leaving the past behind might not be as easy as they'd hoped.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	Over The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Do It With Style Reverse Bang!
> 
> Story by redundant_angel  
> Artwork by SkreeBat

_  
  
September _

Crowley had long lost track of how many times he’d woken up right here, in the bed he shared with Aziraphale in their South Down’s cottage by the sea, and thanked _someone_ he and Aziraphale had made it this far. Somehow, an angel and a demon had banded together and survived Armageddon along with the rest of the world, and now they were finally together.

About a year after the failed apocalypse, the two of them had decided to leave London for somewhere a little less hectic, and move in together. After a short search for a new home, they found just the place… a quaint seaside cottage in the countryside of the South Downs, and in the last few months had managed to carve out a space for themselves in the world. 

And they were happy. Crowley couldn’t remember a time where he’d felt so whole instead of feeling like a part of him was always missing. He was no longer adrift. He’d come home. 

It was a bit of a shock, then, when he woke up one morning and knew immediately something was wrong. Before he even opened his eyes, Crowley knew. He could taste it in the air; that sterile, ionized smell; the kind you might get right before a lighting storm. Memories of that Heaven and that cold room where he was taken while in Aziraphale’s body came flooding back. Crowley could never forget that smell, not even if he tried. 

When his eyes snapped open, the room was pitch black. Panicked, Crowley reached across towards Aziraphale’s side of the bed. It was empty. This wasn’t unusual in itself; the angel wasn’t much of a sleeper, but that did nothing to lessen the deepening pit of dread in Crowley's stomach. He shot upright and rushed out of the bedroom and towards the stairs; his feet feeling heavy as though they might sink through the floor as he dashed down the staircase and into the kitchen. A gust of cold air smacked him in the face. The cottage door was open; it swung back and forth, creaking angrily against its hinges in the howling wind. 

“Aziraphale!”

Crowley bolted towards the door, calling out Aziraphale’s name as he rushed outside and into their front garden. There was no one there. 

A starless night stretched overhead; the wind whipping through the trees and the soft willows in the field beyond the cottage. Pale moonlight provided more than enough light for Crowley to watch in horror as everything in his prized vegetable garden shriveled away and died before his eyes. It should have upset him more, but the plants no longer mattered. 

Aziraphale was gone.

* * *

  
Crowley awoke to the familiar sound of Aziraphale’s voice speaking his name. He opened his eyes to find Aziraphale leaning over him; his sea blue eyes fraught with concern. So it had just been a bad dream.

“Fine, yeah. Just a silly nightmare,” Crowley replied, brushing the question aside. He didn’t want Aziraphale to worry over him. 

“Ah. Would you care to talk about it?” Aziraphale asked, because of course he would. 

Crowley shook his head. “Can’t even remember what it was about.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Crowley was sure his bluff was about to be called. Instead, the angel smiled kindly; his eyes crinkling in that soft way that always made Crowley wonder how on earth he got so lucky. 

“All well and good, then, I suppose.” He gave Crowley a quick kiss on his temple and. “I’ll go downstairs and put the kettle on.” 

Once Aziraphale was gone, Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was not the first time Crowley had been plagued by nightmares, but since they’d moved to the South Downs, he’d been certain that they’d stopped for good. After all, now that they were free from the prying eyes of their respective head offices, they could live out their days in peace. Or at least that was the plan. 

The dreams were unnerving, especially because Crowley couldn’t quite help but feel they were living on borrowed time. This part of history was not preordained, at least not to his knowledge. And even though they’d pulled off the biggest ruse ever, all thanks to Agnes Nutter’s predictions, it was tough not to wonder whether Heaven and Hell might intervene on their happily ever after. Not to say that the thought of Heaven and Hell coming after them at some point was out of the realm of possibility… they both fundamentally understood and accepted that. Crowley was just determined not to dwell on something that they couldn’t change. Especially not when there was so much living to do. 

He got up to open the thick blinds. Warm sunlight poured into the bedroom. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day in the South Downs. No sign of the rough windstorm that had haunted Crowley’s dreams, only a light breeze rustled through the long grass. 

Crowley smiled to himself. He and Aziraphale had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm of their own… he wasn’t going to let a silly nightmare ruin his day. He got dressed and made his way downstairs to their cozy kitchen, where he found Aziraphale reading the newspaper with a grim look on his face. 

“More fire and brimstone this morning?” Crowley asked casually.

“Well, it’s not all bad,” Aziraphale muttered, setting down the newspaper. “But, yes.”

“Hmm. I don’t know why you bother reading the news, angel. It only serves to upset you.” Crowley took a seat across from Aziraphale at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Humans will always find ways to hurt each other. That’s never going to change.”

“Yes, I know. Regardless, I like to keep abreast of current events. It simply won't do to bury one’s head in the sand and pretend nothing is happening outside of our own little bubble here in the South Downs.”

“Why not?” countered Crowley. “We don’t work for our respective head offices anymore. The human race is no longer our responsibility. Besides, they’ve got Adam to look out for them now.”

Aziraphale frowned as he stirred his tea. “I think I might go for a jaunt around the Seven Sisters this afternoon.”

Crowley raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A... jaunt?”

“Well, perhaps jaunt isn’t the proper word. A hike?”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale over the rims of his sunglasses. He didn’t need to wear the glasses anymore; it was just he and Aziraphale in their home, but he hadn’t quite broken the habit of putting them on in the morning. “Since when have you been one to go for hikes?” he asked.

Aziraphale shrugged. “Since now, I suppose."

"What brought this on?"

"It's a lovely day outside, and there's so much of the countryside side we have yet to explore. Surely we can't spend the rest of our lives indoors?”

Crowley shot him a pointed look. " _We_ certainly can." He stirred his coffee, then licked the spoon, catching Aziraphale’s unamused expression. "Fine. You can go out. I’m going to spend a nice relaxing afternoon in the garden. Followed by a nap."

Aziraphale patted his lips with his napkin and smiled. "Very well. Suit yourself, dear."

Crowley watched, perplexed, as the angel donned his well-worn coat and left for the great outdoors. Why on earth Aziraphale would want to go for a hike was beyond him, but to each his own, Crowley supposed. He shot back the rest of his coffee.  
  


* * *

  
Aziraphale hummed cheerfully to himself as he rounded the path towards the cliffs of the Seven Sisters. The wind had picked up a bit since he’d left the house and he found he needed to push even harder to keep up his pace. The massive sandstone cliffs weren't far from the cottage, although it had taken him a good forty-five minutes to get here. Aziraphale had taken his time, stopping along the way to admire the foliage and the other quaint little cottages nestled along the shore. 

The South Downs was a magical place, well, in more ways than one, he supposed. With its rolling patchwork hills and stunning white coastal cliffs, it was far removed from the bustle and chaos of civilization. Aziraphale and Crowley had chosen it for that very reason. They had wanted to get away from it all so they could concentrate on reinventing themselves and carving out a life together. 

The cottage they had decided on was of modest size but it provided anything and everything a demon and an angel could possibly need. Aziraphale had traded his bookshop in for his own personal library and that was there where he spent much of his time, reading and sipping his tea to his heart’s content. Occasionally, he and Crowley would head back into London to track down a rare book dealer or to visit Aziraphale’s favorite restaurant for crepes, but for the most part, the angel had been content to spend his days indoors with a mug of hot cocoa and a good book.

Crowley, meanwhile, could most often be found working away in his garden. He had grown everything from herbs and vegetables to exotic flowers; some of which were definitely not native to the area. There was even one rare carnivorous plant that Crowley had relentlessly tormented until the thing had grown a fair bit larger than Aziraphale found comfortable. At some point along the way, Crowley had also developed a flare for cooking, something the demon never took much interest in before, but Aziraphale was certainly glad for it. In only a few short months, Crowley had very much honed his skills as a chef. Neither of them needed to eat, of course, and Crowley had never found a taste for it, but he did love indulging Aziraphale...and all those delicious vegetables needn’t go to waste!

Aziraphale finally reached the top of the cliffs, where the land met the sea in glorious, breathtaking fashion. He paused to watch several seabirds as they hovered high above the ocean, and for a moment, he felt a curious tinge of sadness. The birds looked so comfortable in the air as they floated side by side above the sea, soaring free as the wind carried them along. They were free to do as they pleased, without six thousand years of baggage to weight them down. 

He sighed. By leaving Heaven behind and beginning a new life out here with Crowley, Aziraphale had hoped it would be a fresh start. He’d hoped all the uncertainty that had plagued him about the impending end of the world would be a thing of the past once they arrived. He should have known that his unceremonious expulsion from Heaven’s good graces was likely to haunt him this way. In all his years, Aziraphale had never had to deal with anything quite as terrifying as losing his faith in Heaven. Finding out the truth; that he was meant to happily go along with the other side’s plan to turn the earth into a battlefield had hollowed him out inside. 

He hadn’t expected to feel the way he did; had never expected to care so deeply for the earth nor for the humans who inhabited it, no matter their flaws. He hadn’t expected to find so much enjoyment in their literature, or their music, or their cuisine. He had never expected to fall in love.

All of this weighed on Aziraphale’s mind, each and every day. Sometimes, he felt adrift, much like those birds in the wind. He didn’t know how to be anything but an angel, a faithful servant of God. He didn’t know how to be free.  
  


* * *

_  
October_

It was late in the afternoon, and Crowley was bored. Although there was always plenty to do around the cottage, there was also an infinite amount of time in which to do it, and with Aziraphale gone so often on his ‘jaunts’, he’d need to think of something else to do. He’d already weeded the garden, watered everything down, and harvested a fresh batch of tomatoes and eggplant for tonight’s dinner. 

Crowley sat down on the sofa with a glass of wine in hand, pondering the phenomenon of his boredom. Before everything had gone pear shaped, he had always had plenty to do. There were his assignments for Hell to keep him busy, and if all else failed, he could tend to his plants or watch reruns on television. He easily could fill days planning some kind of new ingenious scheme to impress the higher-ups. Sometimes, he missed his old lifestyle. As it turned out, causing mischief was a tough habit to crack. 

Since he and Aziraphale had set up shop in the South Downs, Crowley had kept busy tormenting the locals by entering his vegetables from his garden into local fairs, showing up with produce which couldn’t possibly be in season, or vegetables far larger than anything the townsfolk had ever seen. He’d taken home several prizes for his pumpkins, zucchini, and for his juicy selection of mangoes. When he wasn’t gardening, Crowley occupied himself by messing around with the local fishermen, providing many of them with glimpses of a mysterious sea creature which had taken up residence in the coastal waters. 

It wasn’t that Crowley missed working for Hell; he couldn’t have cared less about leaving that behind. He didn't care for his colleagues, nor for that dark, wretched place he had to visit every so often to give presentations and performance reports. He’d never fit in with them anyway, and when Armageddon arrived and the opportunity to leave finally presented itself, he had been more than ready to leave. It was just that without some kind of greater purpose, Crowley found himself growing restless. 

He fell asleep on the sofa waiting for Aziraphale to come home.

* * *

_  
November_

As autumn turned to winter, Aziraphale’s walks became a common occurrence. Rain or shine, the angel would head out after breakfast and was often gone well into the afternoon. Crowley had got used to it by now, and he was happy that Aziraphale had found something to delve into besides repairing old books, but he still found it frustrating that the angel was gone so often. He wanted to spend more time with Aziraphale, and less time feeling restless and grumpy. His dreams had been getting steadily worse, and it had been putting him in quite a foul mood as of late. Crowley didn’t want to believe it, but sometimes he found himself wondering if Aziraphale was gone so often because he didn’t want to deal with Crowley’s mood swings.

“It’s the fresh air,” Aziraphale had said one day, having just returned for a long afternoon out. He unbuttoned his goose down coat and hung it near the door. “It clears the mind. Helps me to think.” 

Crowley glanced over his shoulder as he stirred the tomato ragu simmering on the range. “And what have you been thinking about?” he asked, tentatively.

“Just... everything,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Everything and anything. I no longer have any assignments to complete for Heaven or any work to do in my bookshop... There’s just so much more time to... think.” He walked over to Crowley and gave the demon a kiss on the cheek. “That smells delicious, darling. New recipe?”

Crowley nodded. “I needed to use the last of the tomatoes…the season’s almost over. Although I could always coax them into growing again if you’d like. Are you hungry?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Really dear, do you need to ask?”

After dinner, Aziraphale selected a label from their extensive wine rack and poured out a glass of red for himself and for Crowley. Then, they sat down together in the living room and curled up under a blanket on the sofa. A storm was beginning to brew outside the cottage; the wind rattling the panes of the glass with its intensity.

“Remind me again why we didn’t move somewhere warmer?” Crowley grumbled as he wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Like Bermuda… or California?"

“Had we moved to Bermuda, you would be complaining that it was too hot,” Aziraphale teased. “And anyway, it’s absolutely lovely around here. The view from the cliffs is particularly spectacular. You should join me sometime on one of my walks.”

"I thought you preferred to go alone? Besides, why get all sweaty when you can just click your fingers and get there instantly?"

“It’s not only about getting from point A to point B, Crowley. The purpose of going for a walk is to get outside, in the fresh air, out of the confined space of this cottage and out into the open.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale. “You find _our_ home to be a confined space?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well it’s what you said.”

A tense silence stretched between them. Crowley decided to change the topic.

“Tell me about your walks,” he said. “Where did you go today?”

“I went back to the cliffs.” Aziraphale sipped at his wine. “The view really is spectacular. I never quite realized how much I enjoy just looking out across the ocean. And the birds. I just love watching them fly. They just seem so carefree up there, like they’re having fun, high on the wind...” he trailed off.

“You almost sound envious,” Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale frowned. “Hmm, I suppose I am, in a way.”

“Everything okay?” Crowley asked. He began gently massaging Aziraphale’s shoulders with his fingertips.

Aziraphale contently leaned into it; closing his eyes. “Perfectly fine, dear,” he sighed. “I should have you do this more often. It feels amazing, and my muscles are surprisingly sore.”

Crowley laughed. “Anytime you like, angel."  
  


* * *

_  
December_

“Crowley? Crowley, wake up!”

Crowley bolted upright in bed, his mind a hazy confused mess. It took him a moment to gather himself and realize that he’d just woken up from another bad dream. Aziraphale was peering down at him, looking rather upset.

“I… must have been dreaming again,” Crowley grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“You weren’t just dreaming, Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “You were flailing about, as though someone or something was attacking you. You nearly hit me in the face with your arm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Look, I realize you haven’t been sleeping well. Perhaps you'd like to discuss the nightmares you've been having-”

“Not this again,” Crowley interrupted.

“Crowley-”

“I’ve told you, angel. They’re just dreams. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Aziraphale didn’t look convinced in the slightest. “I’m not deaf. I can hear calling out my name at night. Clearly they’ve been bothering you. Why won't you talk to me about them?”

"Well, for one thing, you're never here…" Crowley muttered. He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. 

Aziraphale climbed out of bed, his face visibly red. "You know that's not true! What would you have me do? Stay home all day and night?"

“Of course not, angel. You’re free to do whatever you like.”

“Then why are you speaking to me this way?”

Crowley hesitated. He didn’t want to fight with Aziraphale. Not again. They’d only ever had one serious fight in their entire relationship, at the bandstand when they both thought the world was ending, and Aziraphale had, once again chosen Heaven above all else. He understood why Aziraphale had rejected his pleas for them to run away together, but it had still hurt.

“I… don’t know. Not enough sleep. Sorry.”

Aziraphale nodded, but Crowley could tell the angel was exasperated. “I’ll go put the kettle on,” he said, leaving Crowley to his thoughts.

* * *

_  
January_

"Do you want some company?"

Aziraphale was about to head out the door, when Crowley blurted out the question. He wasn't asking just to be polite... he really did want to go with Aziraphale this time. He wanted to see what it was that was so special about these walks the angel had become so obsessed with.

“It’s very kind of you to offer, my dear, but not necessary,” Aziraphale said, without looking directly at him. "I know there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing than tagging along with me.”

Crowley swallowed. He was certain Aziraphale hadn’t meant to come off as distant and aloof, but that was the impression he was getting. When had he _ever,_ in all of history, led Aziraphale to believe that he’d rather be anywhere else than by his side, no matter what they were doing.

“I'll be back in an hour or two,” Aziraphale said before Crowley could respond. “See you later, dear."

Crowley frowned as he watched Aziraphale leave the cottage once again. The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing. Not only did Aziraphale not want to be at home, but the angel wanted to be away from _him_.  
  


* * *

_  
_ _February_

Crowley glanced out the kitchen window. It was getting dark, and Aziraphale still wasn’t home from his walk. Dinner for the evening, coq au vin with an herb salad, was sitting untouched on the table. It wasn’t growing cold; Crowley wouldn’t allow it to, but at this point he had half a mind to let it rot. 

For every walk that Aziraphale had gone on, the angel had not once come home late for dinner. It was completely out of character for Aziraphale to miss dinner; so much so that Crowley couldn’t help but worry. He couldn’t help but wonder if the nightmares he’d been having all winter were some kind of messed up prophecy. What if Heaven had finally come back for Aziraphale? Was that why he had yet to return? 

Worse still, and probably more likely, Crowley thought miserably, was that he had pushed Aziraphale away because he hadn’t been open and honest with him about his fears and how he’d been feeling all these months. He needed to fix things before it was too late.

He grabbed his coat and headed out the door.  


* * *

  
The beams from the Bentley’s headlights swayed wildly as Crowley maneuvered the curves of the road at unthinkable speeds. He rarely drove anywhere anymore, but he hadn’t lost his touch. When Crowley got in the car, he owned the road. 

The Bentley’s engine roared as it flew up the winding road to the top of the cliffs; Aziraphale’s favorite place to go. Crowley knew Aziraphale was drawn here, and if he was going to find the angel anywhere, this would be the place. 

He reached the top of the cliffs, parked haphazardly on the side of the road, and jumped out, hurrying the rest of the way up the path on foot. As he approached the edge of the cliffs, that gnawing feeling in his stomach returned, and it worsened every minute he didn’t spot Aziraphale. It came as a relief when he finally recognized Aziraphale’s familiar well-worn coat. He was standing near the edge of the cliff, bright white like a beacon against the darkness; Crowley’s own personal lighthouse beckoning him home. 

Crowley was ready to bolt across the wild grass, wrap Aziraphale tightly in his arms, and refuse to let go for a full minute. He had decided on the drive up that he would drop every pretense and tell Aziraphale everything; all about his nightmares and his fears. He would be honest with Aziraphale, and everything would be fine. Instead, he watched in confusion as the angel clasped both hands together in reverence, and slowly knelt to the ground. Crowley blinked, unable to process what he was seeing.

Aziraphale was on his knees, praying. 

Crowley knew Aziraphale would always feel a connection to God; heaven, she might even still be talking to him. But, to realize that _this_ was why Aziraphale had been going on walks… so he could hide this side of himself away… it was too much.

 _He misses Heaven_ , Crowley thought to himself as reality sunk in. _He misses Heaven, and he wants to go back._

What an idiot he’d been. He’d stupidly worried that Heaven would seek them out here, find Aziraphale and rip him away against his will. He’d never thought about Aziraphale wanting to go back willingly. He really should have seen this coming.

 _I’m not enough for him. I’m not good enough. I’m not enough and I’ll never be enough._ The words pounded through Crowley’s head like a mantra. His heart was racing and his hands were trembling. He had never felt so utterly helpless in his entire existence. If Aziraphale wanted to leave, there was nothing he could do about it. He would never ask, nor expect Aziraphale to stay here with him if it made him unhappy. 

Crowley backed away from lookout point, and headed back to the Bentley. He needed to leave and get away from here…as far away as possible. He wondered briefly if Alpha Centauri was still an option. 

“Crowley?”

Crowley's feet stopped moving. The angel had spotted him; there was no way to avoid this conversation now. Steeling himself, Crowley turned to face Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was hurrying over. “Oh dear, what time is it? I’m late for dinner aren’t I? I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, angel. I just… wanted to make sure you were alright. I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing.”

Aziraphale grabbed a hold of Crowley’s sleeve, the knowledge that Crowley had seen him praying was finally seeping in. “Crowley, please. Wait.”

Crowley set his jaw. That fight that he’d been trying to avoid all this time, well, it was inevitable now. This was going to happen whether he liked it or not. “Look, angel. I realize that you need your own space now, and I don’t blame you. Living with a demon probably isn’t for most people.”

“Crowley- Stop it. I’m not sick of you! Why would you even say that?"

"You're gone almost every day, for hours. And then I come up here and I see you praying on your knees. When were you going to tell me about this?” He yanked his arm back from Aziraphale’s grip. “Or you thought it was best that I didn’t know just how miserable you were here.”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” Aziraphale snapped. “I love our life together. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Then what’s going on with you?”

Aziraphale expression tightened. "Crowley, I… I didn’t know how to tell you. And I didn’t want to worry you, but clearly that has happened anyway. Ever since we arrived here in the South Downs, I’ve just felt… adrift. A part of my life, the very essence of who I was for so very long, is gone. I feel… lost.”

“They tried to kill you, Aziraphale! Why would you want to give them a second thought?” Crowley snapped. “Besides if there was anyone you could have talked to about this… it would have been me.”

Aziraphale glanced at his feet. “I know that,” he said wearily.

“Then, why?”

“You _can_ miss something and not want to go back to it. I should have talked to you about it, but I was afraid you’d be upset with me,” Aziraphale continued. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, Aziraphale. I haven’t been honest with you about my dreams. I was too afraid that my nightmares would become a reality.”

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale looked up at him, his eyes shining with tears.

Crowley swallowed. This was going to be painful to say out loud, but he needed to say it. “I think I’ve been afraid of losing you, Aziraphale,” he admitted.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He suddenly pulled Crowley towards him and into a tight hug. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale in return.

“I’m not going anywhere, Crowley. Our side, remember?”

Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes and nodded, not realizing until that moment how badly he’d needed to hear those words. He could feel Aziraphale’s love enveloping him; seeping through his pores and warming his cold bones. “Our side,” he repeated back.

‘Let’s go home,” Aziraphale whispered. He took Crowley’s hand and led him away from the precipice.

* * *

_One week later_

  
“Angel?”

Aziraphale glanced up from his paperback novel. “Yes?”

Crowley was grinning back at him with a mischievous smile. Aziraphale could almost see the wheels turning in the demon’s brain. Crowley was up to something.

“Let’s go out.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Go out? But Crowley, it’s nearly midnight!”

"Well, it's not like you're planning on sleeping, is it? Come on, grab your coat and dress warmly,” Crowley said, slipping a bookmark into the pages of Aziraphale’s book. “We’re going for a drive.”

* * *

Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised when he realized where Crowley had taken him.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, stepping out of the Bentley. They were back at the cliffs of the Seven Sisters, only this time, it was the middle of the night and the area was deserted. 

Crowley grinned as he made his way around the Bentley to join Aziraphale. “You and I are going for a flight.” 

“We’re…. What?” Aziraphale stammered. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. It’s dark; no one's around. Plenty of room for us to spread our wings.” He took Aziraphale’s hand in his own. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

As they headed towards the lookout point, Aziraphale began to feel a tinge of excitement at the prospect of flying again, like a proper angel. They approached the cliff’s edge. There was a guardrail and signs warning visitors to keep a safe distance away from the crest of the hill. Like a couple of amorous teenagers, they snuck around it, Aziraphale allowing Crowley to lead the way. When they reached the edge, Aziraphale dared to look down. Hundreds of feet below, dark waves crashed against shore. Next, he glanced upwards. Above them, the night sky was a canopy of brilliant stars, too many too count. Finally, Aziraphale turned to Crowley, fidgeting nervously.

“I haven’t gone flying in a very long time,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I remember how!”

“Ehh, It’s like riding a bicycle,” Crowley said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’ll never forget how.”

“Have you ever ridden a bicycle?” 

Crowley made a face. “Very funny.” Without pretense, Crowley’s wings stretched out behind him, translucent in the space between this plane and another. 

Aziraphale followed his lead, his own wings emerging from his back in quick succession. It felt so good to be free.... to be himself again. He turned back to Crowley. “And… if I fall?”

“I’ll catch you,” Crowley replied softly. He reached for Aziraphale’s hand and Aziraphale took it, squeezing tightly. “Ready?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and nodded. His feet left the ground, and he didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
